The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 243

They'll have the Caesar for their lord, forsooth, That is to say, they'll have no lord at all.

ATTINGHAUSEN.

Must I hear this, and from thy lips, rash boy!

RUDENZ.

You urged me to this answer. Hear me out.

What, uncle, is the character you've stooped To fill contentedly through life? Have you No higher pride, than in these lonely wilds To be the Landamman or Banneret, [11]

The petty chieftain of a shepherd race?

How! Were it not a far more glorious choice To bend in homage to our royal lord, And swell the princely splendors of his court, Than sit at home, the peer of your own va.s.sals, And share the judgment-seat with vulgar clowns?

ATTINGHAUSEN.

Ah, Uly, Uly; all too well I see, The tempter's voice has caught thy willing ear, And poured its subtle poison in thy heart.

RUDENZ.

Yes, I conceal it not. It doth offend My inmost soul to hear the stranger's gibes, That taunt us with the name of "Peasant n.o.bles."

Think you the heart that's stirring here can brook, While all the young n.o.bility around Are reaping honor under Hapsburg's banner, That I should loiter, in inglorious ease, Here on the heritage my fathers left, And, in the dull routine of vulgar toil, Lose all life's glorious spring? In other lands Deeds are achieved. A world of fair renown Beyond these mountains stirs in martial pomp.

My helm and shield are rusting in the hall; The martial trumpet's spirit-stirring blast, The herald's call, inviting to the lists, Rouse not the echoes of these vales, where naught Save cowherd's horn and cattle-bell is heard, In one unvarying, dull monotony.

ATTINGHAUSEN.

Deluded boy, seduced by empty show!

Despise the land that gave thee birth! Ashamed Of the good ancient customs of thy sires!

The day will come, when thou, with burning tears, Wilt long for home, and for thy native hills, And that dear melody of tuneful herds, Which now, in proud disgust, thou dost despise!

A day when thou wilt drink its tones in sadness, Hearing their music in a foreign land.

Oh! potent is the spell that binds to home!

No, no, the cold, false world is not for thee.

At the proud court, with thy true heart thou wilt Forever feel a stranger among strangers.

The world asks virtues of far other stamp Than thou hast learned within these simple vales.

But go--go thither; barter thy free soul, Take land in fief, become a prince's va.s.sal, Where thou might'st be lord paramount, and prince Of all thine own unburdened heritage!

O, Uly, Uly, stay among thy people!

Go not to Altdorf. Oh, abandon not The sacred cause of thy wronged native land!

I am the last of all my race. My name Ends with me. Yonder hang my helm and shield; They will be buried with me in the grave. [12]

And must I think, when yielding up my breath, That thou but wait'st the closing of mine eyes, To stoop thy knee to this new feudal court, And take in va.s.salage from Austria's hands The n.o.ble lands, which I from G.o.d received Free and unfettered as the mountain air!

RUDENZ.

'Tis vain for us to strive against the king.

The world pertains to him:--shall we alone, In mad, presumptuous obstinacy strive To break that mighty chain of lands, which he Hath drawn around us with his giant grasp.

His are the markets, his the courts; his too The highways; nay, the very carrier's horse, That traffics on the Gotthardt, pays him toll.

By his dominions, as within a net, We are enclosed, and girded round about.

--And will the empire shield us? Say, can it Protect itself 'gainst Austria's growing power?

To G.o.d, and not to emperors, must we look!

What store can on their promises be placed, When they, to meet their own necessities, Can p.a.w.n, and even alienate the towns That flee for shelter 'neath the eagle's wings? [13]

No, uncle. It is wise and wholesome prudence, In times like these, when faction's all abroad, To own attachment to some mighty chief.

The imperial crown's transferred from line to line, [14]

It has no memory for faithful service: But to secure the favor of these great Hereditary masters, were to sow Seed for a future harvest.

ATTINGHAUSEN.

Art so wise?

Wilt thou see clearer than thy n.o.ble sires, Who battled for fair freedom's costly gem, With life, and fortune, and heroic arm?

Sail down the lake to Lucerne, there inquire, How Austria's rule doth weigh the Cantons down.

Soon she will come to count our sheep, our cattle, To portion out the Alps, e'en to their summits, And in our own free woods to hinder us From striking down the eagle or the stag; To set her tolls on every bridge and gate, Impoverish us to swell her l.u.s.t of sway, And drain our dearest blood to feed her wars.

No, if our blood must flow, let it be shed In our own cause! We purchase liberty More cheaply far than bondage.

RUDENZ.

What can we, A shepherd race, against great Albert's hosts?

ATTINGHAUSEN.

Learn, foolish boy, to know this shepherd race!

I know them, I have led them on in fight-- I saw them in the battle at Favenz.

Austria will try, forsooth, to force on us A yoke we are determined not to bear!

Oh, learn to feel from what a race thou'rt sprung!

Cast not, for tinsel trash and idle show, The precious jewel of thy worth away.

To be the chieftain of a freeborn race, Bound to thee only by their unbought love, Ready to stand--to fight--to die with thee, Be that thy pride, be that thy n.o.blest boast!

Knit to thy heart the ties of kindred--home-- Cling to the land, the dear land of thy sires, Grapple to that with thy whole heart and soul!

Thy power is rooted deep and strongly here, But in yon stranger world thou'lt stand alone, A trembling reed beat down by every blast.

Oh come! 'tis long since we have seen thee, Uly!

Tarry but this one day. Only to-day Go not to Altdorf. Wilt thou? Not to-day!

For this one day bestow thee on thy friends.

[Takes his hand.

RUDENZ.

I gave my word. Unhand me! I am bound.

ATTINGHAUSEN (drops his hand and says sternly).

Bound, didst thou say? Oh yes, unhappy boy, Thou art, indeed. But not by word or oath.

'Tis by the silken mesh of love thou'rt bound.

[RUDENZ turns away.

Ay, hide thee, as thou wilt. 'Tis she, I know, Bertha of Bruneck, draws thee to the court; 'Tis she that chains thee to the emperor's service.

Thou think'st to win the n.o.ble, knightly maid, By thy apostacy. Be not deceived.

She is held out before thee as a lure; But never meant for innocence like thine.

RUDENZ.

No more; I've heard enough. So fare you well.

[Exit.

ATTINGHAUSEN.

Stay, Uly! Stay! Rash boy, he's gone! I can Nor hold him back, nor save him from destruction.

And so the Wolfshot has deserted us;-- Others will follow his example soon.

This foreign witchery, sweeping o'er our hills, Tears with its potent spell our youth away: O luckless hour, when men and manners strange Into these calm and happy valleys came, To warp our primitive and guileless ways.

The new is pressing on with might. The old, The good, the simple, fleeteth fast away.

New times come on. A race is springing up, That think not as their fathers thought before!

What do I here? All, all are in the grave With whom ere while I moved and held converse; My age has long been laid beneath the sod: Happy the man who may not live to see What shall be done by those that follow me!

SCENE II.